


Delusions of Nothing

by still_lycoris



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Mind Manipulation, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Federation workers discuss the dreams of Roj Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delusions of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a hypothesis put forward in Big Finish's _Liberator Chronicles 10: Velandra_ and therefore there are about to be **spoilers** for that audio. Blake's (probable) hallucination of Travis suggests that Blake never escaped the brainwashing centre and that the entirity of Blake's 7 is therefore based on his delusions while tied up to a Federation machine. And so I wrote a fic.

“Why do you think he created them?”

Oll looked up, meeting Kenetta’s eyes over the machine. Inside the machine, Roj Blake lay, wired up and prepared, silent now. He’d been talking animatedly before but currently, in his fantasy, he was sleeping and as far as he was concerned, there was nobody to talk to. Oll and Kenetta were nothing to Roj Blake, even though Oll had been by his side for over a year, Kenetta for a number of months.

“He needed a crew. He created a crew. Why make it more complicated?”

Kenetta shrugged her shoulders. Oll was a bit suspicious of Kenetta. She was clearly bright and skilled but he couldn’t help thinking that she might be in need of a bit of reconditioning herself. She talked about the subjects like they were _people_ and everybody knew that they were just rebel meat, there for testing and nothing much else.

“Why _that_ crew?” she was saying now. “You’d think he’d have created himself an army of rebels, wouldn’t you? Passionate fighters who believe in his cause. Instead, he’s got a ragtag collection of criminals and one quiet alien!”

“Well, they always keep it consistent, don’t they?” Oll said boredly. “He had to come off a prison ship so the crew had to be criminals.”

“No they didn’t. He could have left the others to go to Cygnus Alpha, dumped that Avon on the nearest planet. But he didn’t, he went back for them and kept them. For that matter, why only take a few? Why not take more?”

“Because create too many and the brain loses track.” This answer, Oll _was_ sure about. He’d watched plenty of the rebel meat construct fantasies about where they were and the fantasies that crumbled were always the ones that had too many people involved. The brain became confused, the subject jittery and it usually ended the same way – madness or death. Or both. Most brains seemed to realise this and kept the subject as sane as possible, by limiting the amount of creations.

“Why do you think he never goes back and sees people again?” he continued, warming to his theme. “Because the brain just dismisses them once they’ve been created. The group he’s got is pretty large as it is.”

“Maybe.” Kenetta didn’t seem convinced, which was annoying of her. She hadn’t been here as long as Oll had but she’d been working in the other centres for years. What were they teaching them in basic training these days?

“But why that crew?” she persisted, returning to her original point.

“Do you have a theory?” Oll asked, deciding that she probably did or she wouldn’t be harping on about it so much.

Kenetta frowned. She adjusted the dosage of one of the drip-feeds. Oll resisted the urge to check it.

“Maybe they represent things he needs. Have you read anything about his background?”

“No,” Oll said shortly. “Why would I? He’s nothing, Kenetta. He’s just a rebel and a test subject, nothing else. I don’t care about his family or his friends. His dreams are only interesting because we’re supposed to log them in case they reveal something important and Roj Blake’s are all childish fantasies about destroying the government.”

“I wondered if they’re a fantasy family,” Kenetta mused, moving around the machine and checking some of the dials. This time, Oll _did_ check but she hadn’t done anything to them that wasn’t within bounds. Great, now he was getting paranoid. “Maybe he had a brother that he didn’t get on with and that’s Avon. Jenna could be his substitute wife and Vila and Gan metaphorical children. I don’t know about Cally though … ”

“Then why wouldn’t he just _create_ that?” Oll snapped. “Mellanby, down the hall, that’s what he created, a daughter and a foster-daughter to love and cherish and what have you. Blake’s got a pitiful rebel force. There’s psychoanalysis and then there’s nonsense. He’s not even pretending to be in a sexual relationship with ‘Jenna’ – or any of them in fact.”

Kenetta was giving him an annoyed look.

“Actually, it’s important,” she said. “If we can identify what drives Blake, we can help identify key points in the psyche of other rebels. We can alter them before it comes too serious, we can stop fighters before they fight.”

That sounded rather reasonable and Oll tried not to scowl. He ought to at least attempt to be a gracious loser.

“I think it’s because he knows that he’s lost,” Kenetta said. 

Oll looked at her, rather surprised. She was staring down at Blake, her expression unreadable now.

“Deep in that brain, he knows he can’t do it. He never got away, the Federation will never fall. He’s given himself a crew of motley criminals for exactly that reason – it can’t work. It can never work. And he knows it. So they just stumble on, achieving nothing.”

Blake stirred slightly, almost as if he’d heard her. His eyes fluttered, his mouth moved silently. Perhaps mouthing the name of one of the crew that he created to be his friends and colleagues in his pointless dream. Oll suddenly felt strangely sorry for him. Self-sabotaging your own fantasy. Now that was messed up.

He scowled. Pitying the rebel-meat? Kenetta really was bad for him. Maybe he ought to put in a report on her. Just to be safe.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s others to see to today.”

Kenetta shrugged and followed him out, leaving Roj Blake to his dreams.


End file.
